"Did you know that spells cast in Parselmouth work just as well as regular spoken spells?" Harry twirled his wand, watching it spark with uncontrolled magic, fascinated as the colors changed from gold to red to black.
"Of course they do, it is just another language, after all." He scowled at the speaker, then turned back to admiring his wand. It was now leaving trails of blackness in the air; it almost looked as if it were tearing little holes in reality itself. Amazing. "Have you used the new spell yet?" he looked up, then back down. He didn't like looking at that face, there were too many horrible memories attached to it, but it was useful to have him alive, he'd given them so much. Harry laughed. There really was no such thing as loyalty, only self preservation, and this one knew all about that.
"I saw someone interesting the other night." The man stiffened.
"So I saw in the papers. That display was, unwise." Harry snarled and the red flecks in his eyes flashed.
I'm tired of having every bloody move I make reported in the damned paper. I told Kingsley years ago we should put it under Ministry control, or just shut it down. It causes more problems than it's worth."
"It's too soon for that. I told all of you when we started that this was a long game to play. You Griffyndors have never had patience to allow things to come to fruition on their own. That is why you fail."
"Fail? How is it we failed again? I seem to recall that Voldemort is dead, the Death Eaters are scattered, at least those that survived."
"Yes, and what are you left with? A rudderless ship. Say what you will about the Dark Lord, there would have been no void of power with his ascencion."
"He was mad." Another nod of acknowledgement.
"Quite so. We would have bided our time until he could be replaced with someone more powerful. Did you ever consider that could be why we made no attempts on you when you were growing up? We knew the prophecy, we knew the Dark Lord would fall, that was not the concern, the concern was who would rise to take his place. You, fool boy, could have done it, but no, you turned your back on power. What a shame. So much potential, so utterly wasted."
"Yes, but I'm not a pureblood, now am I?"
"Bah, He was only a halfblood himself. It was the power he held that made him accepted. At least both of your parents were wizards, his father was a true Muggle."
"I remember, long ago I was given a choice. Did you know, all those years ago at Hogwarts, the Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin? I asked it to put me in Griffyndor. I was young, and frightened, Griffyndor looked so much easier." The other man thought for a long few minutes then chuckled.
"Now that would have been interesting, would it not? I can only imagine the relief in that fool Dumbledors mind when he realized he would not be fighting for your heart and mind. Now come, you wanted to learn this spell so pay attention. Your Latin is barbarous, but it might suffice eventually." Harry began to repeat the chant in Latin, the tip of his wand pulsing luridly as he practiced.